


Indulgences

by GuitarDad



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Father/Son Incest, Felching, Food Kink, Foreskin Play, French Kissing, Gay, Gay Sex, Hair-pulling, Hotel Sex, Incest, Jock Straps, Large Cock, Leather, Lingerie, Long Hair, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Penthouse, Post-Episode: s03e08 Mr. Greg, Rimming, Rough Sex, Showers, Snowballing, Tongues, Uncircumcised Penis, Vibrators, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuitarDad/pseuds/GuitarDad
Summary: In another world, Steven and Greg Universe went to Empire City alone. For their own reasons. Just a boy and his dad.
Relationships: Greg Universe/Steven Universe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Indulgences

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags and make the reading choice that's right for you.

The penthouse smelled like all the best parts of the Beach City boardwalk, with the salt and sea replaced with concrete and metal acidity. That was just from the open window, though; flowers by the bed stopped the worst parts of the city from flowing in. Most of the overpowering scent came from the pizza they ordered, with the tanginess of Chinese takeout and the nutty mushroom hints to top it all off.

Steven took a deep breath in and shuffled his head onto the pillow. It smelled perfect.

“You glad we took this trip, kiddo?”

Greg stood at the end of the bed, taking off his cufflinks and sliding them into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. Steven tilted his head and watched his father grunt and raise a foot to the cushioned bench, untying the thin laces of the shiny black shoes. They could have the tuxes ironed out of their wrinkles later. The dress socks slid off once the shoes were placed aside, tugged off the callused, sand-weathered feet.

“Just you and me. I know you’ve wanted something bigger than the van. We don’t have to worry about you and that big mouth of yours, either. There’s a big gap between us and the next floor down.”

As the man slid off his suit jacket, Steven started to raise his legs and undress. A swift breath stopped him. Greg raised a hand, staring Steven in the eyes and shaking his head. Well, he knew what that meant. Steven let his leg down and bit his lip to keep from interjecting.

The suit jacket was folded over the couch along with the cummerbund, and Greg pulled out the dress shirt from his pants, letting the tails fly as he started to unbutton. He grinned in the darkness, watching his son from the light of the open windows. The warmth of the night covered them, but Steven still shivered as he watched his father strip. One by one, the buttons slid apart to reveal the familiar sleeveless undershirt and the bulging strips underneath. The pictures that Greg had showed his son before were coming true, and Steven’s mind raced. He brought his little hands up to his lapels and tugged, unable to keep from squirming on the bed. The perfectly-cut tux seemed to know what he wanted, restraining his excitement, as if whispering for him to wait.

“Daddy’s been waiting for a while for something like this,” Greg said, his voice hoarse and low. “For a way to show his boy his love. Do you want it, Schtuball? You ready?”

“Y-yeah! Yes, daddy!”

When Greg pulled down his trousers, Steven couldn’t help but let out an accompanying whine, pumping his little feet back and forth on the bedspread. The leather jock was already bulging in the front, with the snap fly straining to hold back the man’s love. Greg tugged the tank over his head to show off the matching black leather harness, with a metal ring in the middle practically glowing in the moonlight.

Steven had to grab with both hands and squeeze the comforter as Greg walked over to the side of the bed, humming along to their tune as he knelt and pulled out what sounded like a box from under the bed. The boy closed his eyes and let his body shake with exertion. The van was indeed smaller than the penthouse room, and could only house so much. Tape and bungee cords could suffice, but the shopping that Greg had done before their excursion only confirmed what they already knew: quality mattered. Steven wished he could look into the box, but he had to chastise himself. The gift from earlier and the promise he had made was enough. He could feel it underneath his tuxedo, digging into his baby fat.

When the man rose again, his silhouette was topped with the outline of a leather cover, plain black with a silver trim around the brim and a chain around the head, a fitted master’s cap just for him. The shadow turned into a towering image as Greg climbed onto the bed, crawling across towards the supine teenager before straddling the boy. The man’s smile was broad underneath his goatee, as domineering as his stature.

“You’re daddy’s beautiful boy,” he whispered. “You’re daddy’s special boy.”

“I love you, daddy!”

“I love you too, baby.”

Steven knew that his father couldn’t help himself. Greg pushed his body back until he was laying above Steven, and as their mouths met, the boy wrapped his arms and legs as much as he could around Greg and held on tightly as he was held in return. It was their famous deep kiss, their secret. He could taste their last indulgent meal, the richness of steak on the man’s hot breath as that thick tongue swirled around his mouth. Steven offered his own, a twist of flesh and spit, his tiny moan overshadowed by Greg’s deep grunt. The hairs of the goatee pricked and brushed around his perfect pale skin. 

The body on top of his protected him from the lights of the city. Steven writhed in his tuxedo, ruining the fabric with each little twitch and grasp, until the man couldn’t hold back any longer. Greg withdrew his tongue and let the spittle fall between them, a drip sliding down Steven’s chin. The boy held his mouth open, and he closed his eyes. There was a snort, then a glob of spit directly onto his tongue, and Steven swallowed the warmth with a tiny satisfied gulp.

“God, I am so lucky you’re as nasty as your old man.”

Steven couldn’t remember the last time he was undressed by anyone, not so gently as this. Greg took each shoe off and tossed it to the carpet, away from where they’d cause trouble. A child’s suit was easily replaced, after all. Just like before, he started with the socks, cummerbund, jacket, all the externalities, ignoring the little rise in Steven’s pants. The man untucked Steven’s dress shirt and sat back. 

“Show me.”

He started with the shirt, fumbling with each button as his breaths made his belly rise and fall. Even before he reached the bottom, Greg was groaning softly at the sight, rubbing his crotch as he looked his boy over. The black lace top wasn’t built for boys, but Steven’s chest filled it out anyway, the loose ruffles at the bottom tingling over the vellus hairs of his belly. His father helped him remove one sleeve at a time until he was just in his bralette, as black as the handsome suit he had worn on top.

Of course Greg couldn’t resist pinning his arms to the bed, leaning over one more time, silently warning Steven to stay just like that. The man’s thick fingers gently undid the metal clasp of Steven’s pants and slid down the zipper. Steven had thought the panties would be itchy with all the little flowers and thinness, but they had been so soft, even now as he strained against them. Greg chuckled as he tugged down his boy’s pants, the little boner tenting his new, expensive undies.

After the pants were tossed off the bed, there was a moment of silence. Greg stared and breathed, as if centering himself, admiring his son. Steven stretched out in his new outfit, his arms and legs trembling before he sighed and rested on the bed. He couldn’t help but giggle when he saw his father’s adoration, smiling as redness filled his cheeks.

“Dad, c’mon…”

“Ah ah, I’m not dad tonight.”

“Yes, daddy!”

“Attaboy.”

The man’s hands rubbed over Steven’s belly, admiring its roundness, filled with all the expensive meats and cheeses of the night, and just a little champagne in private, as a treat. Each sip had made him cringe and wrinkle his face up. Maybe alcohol could be served another day. Food was enough for now. Steven was almost sleepy, certainly in a restful state of mind. Two thumbs gently rubbed over his gemstone, polishing the sides in an almost curious pattern.

He was teasing him. Greg knew how much he had wanted this, how much he practiced. It was the hardest thing to do, to prove that he loved his father. No matter how much it hurt, or how strange the requests were, everything that he did made his heart and body swell in a way he couldn’t describe. Of course he knew what sex was, they had been upfront about that. This, though, this was love. Steven listened to his father’s heavy breaths as he rocked above him. 

“You know that daddy likes making you feel good, right?” the man said. “Daddy loves it when you make him feel good, too. Daddy’s got a lot to show you tonight.”

“C-can you…”

“We’ll do it all. But I need to tenderize you, baby. Get you nice and ready for me.”

A hand came up and gently pinched Steven’s nose closed. When he took a breath for air, Greg moved the other hand to cover the boy’s mouth. Steven closed his eyes as the room began to rock around him. Everything fell into silence. The single breath held in Steven’s lungs, and he forced himself to hold it in as long as possible. Greg didn’t move at all. A bubble of pain began to form in the back of the child’s sternum. There was only so long he could last.

One second at a time, the burning sensation spread through his throat and head. His eyes fluttered open to see the dark blue of his father in his leather getup, a swirl of black and pink. Steven began to choke, his hands shaking as he resisted the urge to claw the man’s hands away. But the pressure was too much, and he felt his chest wanting to heave, his lungs so desperately wanting to fill. His eyes opened wide and he grabbed Greg’s wrists, but he didn’t dare actually pull them apart.

Greg let go and Steven took in a massive gulp of air, heaving into his father’s palms. His body returned to baseline, rising and falling, his chest moving like a tidal pool in a hurricane, pulsing with panic and relief. It felt like the longest breath he had taken, even though he knew they would never time such a thing. Hiccoughing gently, Steven licked his lips as the man chuckled above him.

“Deep breath, Steven. Look at me.”

This time, he straddled Steven once more, drawing himself up as he balanced on the boy’s belly. Steven knew what was coming. He kept his eyes open even as the man’s hands curled around the sides of his neck. It was so easy, even with the chub in the way, for Greg to overtake him. The man let out a deep breath of his own as he squeezed.

They had only talked a little about why they liked the things they liked, why Greg wanted to subject Steven to them. It didn’t matter in the end, as long as the boy was happy with the sensation, with giving himself up. That’s what it all came down to in the end, letting his father have full control. He could give it all, let the one man who loved him hurt him. But it wasn’t really hurt, was it. It was a restriction of human blood flow, a grip of comfort, two dark eyes staring him down. Steven looked at his father just as he had been ordered, mouth hanging open. 

Safety came first, in its own way. Steven had never passed out from this, nor would his dad let that happen. It was just enough to get him to roll his eyes back, enough so that he would feel the tingles run down his arms and legs. They knew better than to go any farther. Greg blew out a grunt as he increased the pressure, and Steven made a tiny gagging sound on the mattress, shaking softly. He let his arms and legs splay out, passively, all for his daddy.

When the hands released, Steven gasped, then started to cough, turning his head away and scrunching his eyes up. Greg made his way off of the boy as he came to, getting his lungs filled back up with air, getting his body ready for consciousness once more. He had never blacked out, not from this, but maybe one day when they were braver. Greg chuckled and turned around.

“Alright, that’s how you do when daddy’s in charge,” he muttered. “Show me how long you can go down on your own terms, baby.”

He was turned around, and as Steven sat up, he saw his father looking back, adjusting his cap with his legs spread apart. The cheeks were too thick to reveal the hairy hole without assistance, but the delirious boy was more than happy to assist. Steven pushed himself into a sitting position before lurching forwards, sniffling as his clouded eyes came back down to normal. It was a rapid-fire transition, one deviation to the other, without a break in between. His little cock was aching now, desperate for something to touch him, but he knew he had to wait.

For now, Steven positioned himself on his knees behind the man, resting one tiny hand on each cheek. The jock framed the man’s ass perfectly, and Steven grunted as he pulled the cheeks apart. Despite a shower and all the cleanup earlier, the dancing and singing and running had made all the sweat of the evening mat down Greg’s hair, dark lines that framed his reddened hole. The pucker was experienced, as everything in Greg’s life was. Once, they had taken quick pictures for comparison. Steven couldn’t believe how small his own hole looked compared to his father’s. One day, he knew, he could take anything, just like daddy.

For now, though, the boy closed his eyes and rested. He let his face fall forward between his father’s cheeks as he took in the familiar musk, the scent he had known since birth. Sweat and firm, hairy skin pressed into his face as he let himself drool into the man’s crack. Steven’s tongue slid out without restraint as he dragged it up the crevice, pressing into the lines of the adult’s anus. He planted small kisses, whimpered in pleasure, reveling in the masculinity.

“Fuck yeah, that’s right…”

Even with nothing to heal, the boy’s tongue spread his saliva all over the man’s hole, pressing as best he could. It was too short to penetrate, and shapeshifting, well, he didn’t want anything to go wrong. This was just about their bodies and worshipping each other. Steven dug his little hands into Greg’s thighs, holding on tightly. He remembered the early days, before he could take more than a finger, where the man would let him be on top. Daddy had needs, though.

“You got me nice and wet? You like daddy’s hole?”

“M-mrgh!”

“Hold on now.”

Steven pulled back, his face covered in spit and ass sweat. He panted as the man drew away, sliding off the bed once more. Greg took a quick trip to the box, standing back up with a familiar black plug in his hand. He tossed it to Steven before getting on his back and spreading out, rocking back and forth with a grunt.

The direction was obvious. Steven spit on the toy, rubbing it in with his hands. The boy would have needed lube, but spit was enough for his daddy. He gently lowered the toy to the man’s hole, right in between the straps of the jock. Greg pulled on his knees as the tip pushed in, slowly but surely. The lip spread the hole to its edges, and Greg growled right before Steven gave one more push. The plug disappeared with a sticky slurping noise, leaving only the base on the outside.

“ _Fuck!_ Fuck, yeah… Daddy’s gonna stretch you just like that, Steven.”

But first things first. The man reached down and undid the snaps on his jock. With his body straining against the leather, Steven knew his dad was ready. Steven pulled the fly open, and nearly whined aloud as the thick cock practically unfurled into his hands. The hood had already slid back to reveal the thick, musky head. Greg helped out as best he could, adjusting the opening and tugging out his balls from the tight pouch, sighing as they came to rest on the edge of the opening. 

Steven’s mouth was already open. One day, he knew, he would be able to get the whole thing into his mouth, all the way down to the curly hair at the base. For now, the child had to suffice with the head, his lips opening as the glans filled his mouth. Greg massaged the inside of his own thighs and groaned as the boy stroked him with one hand, holding onto his sack with the other. Both testes completely filled Steven’s palm, heavy and full.

“That’s it, baby boy,” he grunted. “Nurse on daddy’s cock. You like it when you’re sucking daddy? You like daddy’s musk on ya?”

With his mouth full, Steven would only whimper in response. His cocklet strained against the panties, almost dripping through his foreskin. The taste of his father’s penis was as natural as could be, fleshy and strong, a hint of salt and soap, cleanliness followed by exercise. His tongue circled around the head as best it could, lips locked behind the glans. The one hand held on and stroked up and down, keeping its rhythm and getting Greg to his full hardness.

As much as he wanted to grow up and get bigger, Steven knew that he would always love his father’s size, the sensation of being smaller than the man. There was comfort in having the big hand reaching up and stroking his black curls, the massive thighs shuddering as Steven sucked and licked. He loved the breadth of Greg’s belly, full of rich food in every sense, hairy and wide before him, the edge of his gut hanging over his jockstrap. Steven had the same muffin-top over his panties, but it was just boyish, like the way the fabric gently squeezed the baby-fat on his thighs.

“C’mon up, baby. Suck on daddy up here.”

He let go of Greg and did as he was told, pulling himself towards the man’s chest. The cock brushed against his belly and thighs as he positioned himself, cradled up in his father’s chest. The framing of the harness squeezed the chest out, making the prominent meaty nipples stick out even more. Steven closed his eyes, hugging Mr. Universe as they cuddled on the massive mattress. His mouth latched onto the nipple as he sucked gently. Greg rested his head on the comforter, stroking himself with one hand as he held Steven’s ass with the other. 

“That’s it. Suck your daddy’s tits,” Greg whispered. “That’s what daddy likes. You like it when daddy holds you? You like it when daddy owns you?”

Steven shuddered as the hand squeezed his rear, digging into the meat. Greg turned his head to look down, watching the boy’s reaction. Steven could only feel the motions around him, tugging on the teat between his lips.

“You got a full belly, don’t you? And nice sexy undies. Daddy bought those for you. Daddy likes to spoil his little boy. Do you like being daddy’s spoiled boy?”

The food had been, honestly, better than anything Steven had had before. The pizza was just as pizza should be, but the steak had been so tender, from local farms, processed right in the hotel with artistry and care. All the veggies they had eaten were the freshest money could buy, and the cheese, well, that just added to the pile. It felt like the food had filled up his whole body, stretching his thighs and joints, turning him into a warm doll. The taste came back to his senses, smoke and char, pink juices. He nodded and hummed softly into Greg’s chest.

“Because you know that means you belong to daddy. You’re gonna pay the price for being daddy’s boy, forever, and ever. Daddy’s going to do whatever he wants to you. Are you brave enough, Stevie? Brave enough for daddy?”

Steven opened his eyes. He knew he could turn up the charm and make the man melt. As he looked up, the steely gaze was enough to make him squeeze tightly and whine against his father’s chest. He ground his hips gently against the man’s side, concurring as much as he could. They had been through the choking, the spanking, the roughness, the breeding, the hardest things that Steven could possibly have associated with sex before. He had been trained for this moment, had begged for it, had loved and hated all the times that had led them here before. Greg Universe couldn’t help but smile down at his boy. The hand on the child’s ass slipped underneath the waistline of the panties, a single finger sliding through the crack.

Greg shushed him, a deep whisper as he started to tease the boy. The little hole tightened under the probing tip of his thick finger, and Steven’s whole body tensed in response. It was just a tease, just a start, a circular motion poking the entrance. Steven was too tight to force anything in without lube, not without genuine pain, and the boy knew his father better than that. Still, Greg groped him all the same, stroking up and down, rubbing his son. Finally, he pulled his hand out suddenly, then smacked down, spanking Steven with the flat of his hand.

“AH! Hn!”

The man moved his arm up and let Steven roll off before he grunted and turned away. Steven pulled himself upright and watched as the silhouette of his father trundled around the bed, his erection jutting out in front of him and swinging with each step. Greg snapped his fingers. 

“Hands and knees,” he ordered. “Reach back, towards your ankles.”

“Y-yes daddy.”

Steven did exactly as he was told, shuffling until he was on the edge of the bed. His feet pointed towards the ground as he shoved his face into the comforter, hands back between his legs. He could only reach so far, but the man knew that already. He listened to the sounds of Greg shuffling through the box, hemming and hawing under his breath.

“These toys weren’t cheap, kid,” he called up. “You bet your behind I’m getting my money’s worth.”

What all had he bought? The first answer came easily, as Greg tossed them onto the bed next to the boy. Steven let himself be manipulated as the leather cuffs, thick straps, were wrapped around him. Greg started with the ankles, tightening them as much as they could go without sliding down the boy’s heel. After each ankle, he held Steven’s hand and strapped another cuff to each wrist, weighty and surprisingly soft on the inside. 

Once the boy was cuffed, Steven felt the man pull his hands back, forcing the spine to arch just a touch. He could feel his erection rubbing against his own belly as he was pulled back, and then, there was a clicking noise as the cuffs were secure. One at a time, Greg affixed Steven’s right hand to his right ankle and his left to the left, forcing the boy’s rear upwards. Both of them knew that Steven could break the carabiners holding him with only an ounce of strength. They both knew that he wouldn’t dare. 

“Oh, if only I could take a picture of you right now,” Greg chuckled.

The man’s hands massaged Steven’s cheeks, squeezing them and tugging them apart. The thin strip of fabric between them rubbed against Steven’s skin, but it was a different kind of discomfort, not necessarily a bad one. He shifted as much as he could on the bed, but motion was limited. Greg sighed as he gripped the boy’s thighs and patted them down, leaning in to rest his face on the crack.

“One day you’re gonna be as hairy as your old man,” he muttered, muffled by the cheeks. “Until then, I’m gonna enjoy your smooth ass, lil’ guy.”

Steven couldn’t help but giggle as his dad grabbed his hips and rubbed his bearded face all over the sensitive skin on his behind. The animal grunts and the little chuckles told him more than enough about how much the man was enjoying himself, true to his word. The boy inhaled sharply and stiffened as Greg brought his tongue over the bulge in the lace where Steven’s balls rested, a neat little sack hanging between his thighs. 

That was for later, perhaps. The true pleasure came from what daddy wanted. Steven was released for a second, unable to see the toys or his father. After some clinking and rummaging, Greg huffed in satisfaction from behind, positioning himself presumably close. The boy twitched as he felt a leather patch come up to press against his scrotum. He recognized it as the head of a riding crop.

“D-daddy?”

“You said you were brave enough. Do you trust me, Steven?”

The boy hesitated, then swallowed. “Yes, daddy.”

The crop dropped away, and then resumed with a sudden forceful tapping on the back of Steven’s sack. The boy gasped as the deep, resonant pain shot up through his groin, tingling the line of his perineum and sending a weight straight through his abdomen. Greg never wanted to hurt the boy, not really, but the laugh behind him reminded Steven that daddy loved to see him twitch with these sensations. The boy couldn’t stop the whines and whimpers as the taps started to come from the bottom again, making him jerk his hips and jump away from the strikes. 

A hand swooped in from behind and grabbed his crotch. The thick fingers squeezed his penis, stroking him through the panties. Greg clicked his tongue.

“Still hard. You get that from your old man, you know. Gonna be a big boy.”

Steven couldn’t imagine ever being as big as his father, and he didn’t want to shapeshift to find out, interesting as that may be. For now, he could only take shuddering breaths as Greg pulled the front of the underwear aside to let Steven’s privates dangle in the air. The boy knew that when he got older, he could drip like daddy. For now, his stiffy merely wiggled as he was manhandled without complaint.

Two fingers pulled back the slick hood of his foreskin, and Steven could feel his own hardness, clenching his teeth. Some days, the man teased him until the head was almost purple. Maybe it was there now; he couldn’t see anything but the bed and the darkness. But he heard the sound of spit, and as his father held the retraction with one hand, Steven felt the other come up from behind.

The clenched fist of Greg’s right hand acted like its own tight hole, slickened with saliva, pushing over Steven’s poor sensitive head. The boy cried out as every nerve on the tip of his penis was squeezed mercilessly. It was stimulating, but not in the way that got him closer to the edge. Greg rolled his makeshift masturbatory aid around, teasing his son, milking the tiny, bulbous glans. Steven could only shake with sensation. It felt like a thousand tiny needles were pressing into his penis, rubbing his skin with all his father’s love.

Slowly but surely, the adult’s hand slipped further down the tiny length, until his left drew away and Steven’s whole member was engulfed in the man’s fist. Greg massaged his son’s cheek with his free hand as he stroked the child, shushing him as he clenched and unclenched. Steven knew he wouldn’t make the boy cum right now, as much as he wanted the release. Daddy first.

Both hands fell away. Steven let out a breath as the skin slid back over, leaving him moist and panting a little as the man moved behind him. He kept his eyes closed and forced his body to relax. One moment at a time, he knew, one step at a time, and he could relax and be with his daddy. The danger of it all was still buzzing around his brain, thrilled by the excitement of being bound and played with. Steven snapped out of his meditation as the riding crop suddenly whipped in and struck the broad side of his ass.

“AH! Ghhh—!”

Each hit came right after the other, stinging blows to each cheek. Steven let out a small cry with each blow, forcing his body to stay still as Greg swung the leather crop against the pale cheeks. The motions were quick, leaving what felt like deep red welts over the skin. Then, the man began to pull back and whip the child’s thighs, forcing Steven to spread his legs enough for the crop to avoid a serious blow to his testes.

“Daddy! Daddy, p-please!”

“Too much? Can’t handle it, boy?” Greg growled. “You gonna be brave for daddy or not? Are you daddy’s boy, or not?”

“I-I’m your boy!” Steven begged. “I’m… I’m daddy’s boy.”

The crop stopped swinging. Aching redness felt like it was pumping pure pain through Steven’s skin. The boy felt tears running down his face, though he didn’t know when he had started to cry. Radiating marks throbbed over his legs and butt, and the swelling seemed to add a whole inch of density to the boy’s backside. It was an incredible sensation, more pain than Steven had ever felt, more purpose than he thought he could handle. Whether or not he enjoyed it didn’t matter, but for what it was worth, the endorphins that started to soak up his head were kicking in. Pain was pain, but it meant something to do it for daddy.

Steven felt a heavy flop on top of his lower back. It was a rectangular weight, held on one end by the man, and Steven strained to remember. Greg rubbed the boy’s hip with one hand, grunting under his breath.

“You remember getting spanked, baby boy? You remember my hand?” the man said.

“Yes, daddy?”

“Do you like it when daddy spanks you? Do you like it when daddy punishes you for being a naughty boy?

“Y-yes, daddy, I’m...a bad boy.”

“One mark, each cheek. Gonna make you nice and red for me, baby boy. This here’s tire tread, nice thick rubber, almost as springy as you. Let’s see now.”

There was no backing that Steven could feel, no wood or plastic on the paddle. It was sheer flexible rubber, just taut enough to keep it in shape. The weight felt like a lot, but it couldn’t be worse than a hand. Greg rarely smacked him seriously, only for play, only with an open hand to his cheeks. Granted, everything was reddened already now, but Steven blew out air and closed his eyes. It couldn’t be that bad.

And then, the tread struck him. Greg slapped the rubber like he was killing an insect, getting all the surface area he could, right on Steven’s right cheek. The pain was impossible to describe. Rubber, it seemed, was heavier than Steven expected, and the force of the spank almost sent him forwards onto the bed. White-hot resonance, compounded with the tenderizing of the riding crop, melted his muscles and seemed to tear his fascia apart. Steven screamed as loudly as he could upon impact, dwindling into a cry as his hands clenched and his wrists shook.

“One more. Other side. One more for daddy.”

“N-no, daddy, please!...”

But the rubber had already peeled away, and Steven’s whole body tensed in preparation before the paddle came down again. The sound of the smack echoed through the whole suite, drowned out once more with Steven’s wails. He couldn’t even feel the texture of the tire, but he could feel its reverberations through his skin and bones. The man had not been kind, nor had he held back. Two smacks, just as even, just as hard, and Steven felt his skin crawling with millions of raw nerves, all begging for release from this torture. The boy sniffled into the bedspread, eyes swimming with pain.

Even when Greg slowly pulled his fingers over Steven’s skin, the tenderized area was rife with tingling, resilient pain making Steven shake. The man grunted in appreciation, then lowered his hands to Steven’s bonds. One at a time, he unshackled the boy, allowing Steven to bring his hands back up to his head to wipe away the tears.

“Oh, you are a brave boy,” Greg chuckled. “You took that like a champ. Daddy’s big boy. Daddy’s strong, sexy boy.”

If he laid on his stomach, his stubborn erection would be in the way. If he laid on his back, the marks on his ass and thighs would hurt too much. Steven didn’t have much of a choice, though, as Greg tapped on Steven’s hip, a silent order to turn onto his side and roll onto his back. He did just as he was ordered, every motion making him wince as he laid on the bed, staring dizzily at the ceiling with his knees bent down over the edge of the mattress.

Standing above him at the end of the bed, the adult stroked himself, still hard, still as sweaty as ever, unsmiling but satisfied. Steven couldn’t do anything as his father squatted and reached into the box, pulling out what he needed. Greg sighed and sat on the bed, making the whole thing rock. He was doing something with his hands, and there was a squirting sound that Steven couldn’t place.

“Come on over. Lay here, daddy’s lap. No more spanks, I promise.”

He put something down, and as Steven struggled to push himself upright, the man raised his son up, helping him to lie down across his broad thighs. The thick cock rested across Steven’s belly, warm and firm as always. The boy could feel his aching legs struggling to keep still, tingling as they were from the impact. His penis, the base buried in baby fat, stuck stubbornly out from his groin, trembling with pubescent pleasure. Greg used one hand to support his son’s back while the other peeled the panties down his thighs, across the cuffs of the ankles, before getting rid of them entirely. The garment fell to the floor without a sound.

“I love you, Steven.”

“I love you too, daddy!”

“I know, buddy. I know. You’re so good to me.”

Greg reached over with his left hand, past Steven’s head, and brought the object between the child’s legs. Steven jumped as the little vibrator turned on and started to hum against his testicles. The black velvet curve cupped the barely-dropped balls, its surface slick with lubricant, ready for other actions. For now, it was enough to tease the boy and rub the slickness over the child’s shaft. Steven closed his eyes and held onto his belly with one hand as he was massaged, bringing the other to stroke his father. To his surprise, though, Greg took his hand away.

“Don’t rub me yet. No hands. Nothing until I’m inside you.”

Punctuating that sentence was the motion of the vibrator down underneath Steven’s perineum and straight to the hairless hole. Some of the lube had rubbed off, but there was enough slickness and practice that Steven only clenched a little as the tip moved down and pressed inside. The brief tension of his anus was relinquished, and Steven took a sharp breath as the vibrator hummed inside him. It was thinner than his daddy’s fingers, which made it easier, slipping into the velvet walls and pressing deeper and deeper inside. Greg twisted the toy around with his left hand, as his right held onto Steven tightly. The child could only hug his belly and raise his legs a little as he was penetrated.

The toys were easier than the actual cock itself. Greg didn’t own too many toys, and makeshift items like toothbrush handles weren’t the same. Food items were good for a laugh, but were ultimately unsanitary. Fingers, tongues and penis were all they had. The quality of the vibrator showed, and Steven found himself relaxing, closing his eyes and running his fingers over the texture of his lingerie top. He wasn’t old enough to feel the ramifications of the prostate, as his father had explained to him, but the toy pressed over as best as Greg could reach, and the man had fingered that little button a few times before, just to see how the boy would react. One day, he could stimulate it enough for Steven to cum. For now, they just played.

Hunger, though, could only be kept for so long. The toy slipped out slowly and Greg tossed it aside. Steven let out a harsh gasp as the finger replaced it. His father’s thick middle digit pushed inside without the same kind of gentleness, not so much a training for what was to come but an exploration of what he could conquer. The man’s heavy breathing above him told Steven all that he needed to know. His legs could only spread so far while he was on his daddy’s lap, with the fist pressing deep inside, squished up against the chubby cheeks that threatened to stop him.

“D-dad, it’s — _ah!_ ”

“You want it bad, don’t you?”

“M-mnuh, yeah, yes, daddy…”

The finger slid out just slowly enough to not hurt. Greg reached over and pulled Steven up before turning and practically throwing the boy down onto the bed onto his back. Steven gasped as all the soreness in his body flew out his lungs. The man slid off and down to the box.

“I want it more,” he grunted.

There was a soft, almost inaudible tapping as the adult tossed something onto the bed, then snatched the vibrator and shut it off, dropping it back into the box. Greg was breathing heavily as he stood over his son, reaching for his toys. Steven was too delirious to look down, but he felt his dad move between his legs, and then he felt the band stretch over his privates. The rubber would be incredibly tight on Greg, but it was mostly snug around Steven’s little cock and balls. He winced as his dad wrapped a second one around just the testicles, then another, stretching them down and gently pulling on his hairless sack. The boy took heavy breaths through his mouth as he felt the soreness seep down his groin, the kind of pain he was used to. Greg let the taut sack rest on his fingertips before he bounced them a couple times, letting them hit his hand with a tiny smack. Each one sent a violent burst through Steven’s body, making him squirm with each little impact.

“Nice and hard. Nice and strong for daddy.” Greg reached down and grabbed Steven by the ankles. “But a good boy tells daddy what he wants.”

He lifted Steven’s ankles into the air. Steven felt the head poke against his cheeks, nearing the hole. The boy couldn’t move as Greg leaned over, huffing and staring with those dark, tired eyes. There wasn’t enough lube, not just from the vibrator and the finger. The man’s cock was as thick around as a soda can, and long enough to feel that it was pushing as far as it could, and then some. The tip was wet and dripping, and his hole was moistened, but it wasn’t enough, not even with the plug still up there milking the man’s prostate. Protests pushed down into Steven’s stomach. He screwed his eyes shut.

“I want...you to fuck me.”

“I didn’t hear you, boy.”

“F-fuck me!”

The dirty word passed by Steven’s lips, and he turned his head to the side. Even here, even now, he hated swearing, but he knew that his father loved to hear him say these words in times like this. The whispers of ‘private parts’ descended into anatomy, and anatomy turned into ‘ass’ and ‘cock’ and the word of the day, the command, the plea. Steven pushed his hands on either side of his groin and shook his genitals. Underneath his foreskin, the head was swollen, pressing up against the hood, as long and hard as it could possibly be. Greg didn’t move, and Steven looked up with two tears running down the side of his face.

“Fuck me, daddy?” he whispered.

“Anything for my sweet baby boy. Anything for my Steven.”

As the man’s hands slid down the child’s legs to his hips, Steven let his thighs fall backwards, stretching open his ass as much as he could without bending over backwards. The bed was just as the right height for the man to bring him forwards with little to no effort. With his belly hanging over, the gut brushed against Steven’s erection before the adjusted cock found the pink hole. Steven had to close his eyes again. 

“Oh, fuck, here we go…” Greg grunted.

The pressure of the glans was almost too much to bear off the bat. Steven had to do his best to relax as it pushed, bending the skin inwards, starting to test the ring of his anus. Reaching down, Steven held onto his ankles and spread himself as much as he could. With the thickness of his thighs and ass, there wasn’t as much leeway, but it was enough, enough for Greg as he pulled on his child’s pelvis. The tiny teenager felt the tears drip as the heat of the moment increased. The first time that his dad had fucked him, they had had to use so much lube that it was hard to tell it apart from the cum that came afterwards. Steven wished for that pressure, but he knew why Greg wanted it like this now.

Steven could feel it all. Every nerve of Greg’s cock was being squeezed by his hole, aided by enough precum and just a hint of spit and lube. The fat head pressed until it couldn’t press any more, and Greg pushed his hips forward with a growl as the glans popped through into the boy’s rear. The mushroom that had felt pliable and warm in Steven’s mouth was now inside of him, sliding through the clenched walls, burning him, warming him, stretching his hole apart.

“God, you’re tight,” the man sighed. “One day, you’ll be a big boy, and you can take me any way you want. But you’ll always be daddy’s boy.”

There was no escaping it, not that Steven could ever want to. Even as he grit his teeth and held himself, even as the inches stretched him beyond what he knew was safe, he would always be his father’s son. He had never imagined it would be like this, but a touch and a kiss, a question and an answer, a few internet searches — the desire had stuck. Steven whined as the pain radiated through his body, as the ring was forced apart by Greg pulling Steven down, down towards his body, bringing them together. 

With the speed and the strength of the man’s pulling, the boy could feel his father’s belly and thighs pressing up against him before he realized how long he had been holding his breath. Steven let out a staggered series of moans and let go to flop his arms over his head, giving his father complete control over what happened. This was just the warm-up, after all.

All breath control was out the window as soon as the firm thrusts began. Not only did the nearly-dry penetration move his body and nerves with every motion, but the feeling of his bound balls being rubbed by his father’s hairy belly was enough to send even more electric tingles down his torso. It burned, and the pain was almost more than he could bear, but Greg’s motions made it clear that he wasn’t going to let the boy up anytime soon. If Steven could get through the worst torture on his hole, then he could get through anything. The boy let out a tiny gasp each time he was brought closer to the man’s body, with only a couple inches of release before he was thrust into once more.

Greg was a methodical lover. The usually verbose man was silent, not even grunting under his breath as he watched the boy. Steven could hear his nostrils puff as he worked out, fucking with precision. The man was a practiced lover, and a practiced father on top of that. He knew exactly what to look for in Steven’s body, when enough was enough. And of course, Steven knew when his father was getting into it all, when he was truly starting to slip into the primal sexual nature of the night.

This was how it would have happened in the wild. No matter how much lubrication the body could make, it would always burn. Steven was meant to be fucked, to feel this special kind of pain, and it was in that state that he could let himself go. His father had the kind of cock that could rule the world, reasonable enough to actually fit inside him and big enough to make it hurt. The smoothness, ringed with hair and veins and full of angry blood, forced the boy open. Then, Greg paused. Steven looked up through bleary eyes as the man tilted his head, before slowly, methodically, Greg pulled out. The cockhead dragged through Steven’s insides and tugged at the hole before it plopped out with a wet retraction. Steven shuddered from head to toe with a tiny whimper as his anus pulled back in on itself.

Greg reached down and grabbed him by the hair. Immediately, Steven yelled and reached for the man’s arm, but he didn’t dare resist. His thick roots screamed in pain as the man dragged him out of bed onto the floor. Steven could barely stand with his shaky legs, and he was hoisted in such a way as to forcefully stumble over around the bed. His father walked confidently over to the table on the other side of the room, kicking aside a pizza box with his bare feet. There were gentle wet sounds of impact as his swinging cock hit his thighs, dripping with their shared juices.

“D-daddy! Daddy, I’m a good boy, I’m good, I’m s-sorry!”

“Knees,” the man grunted. “Hands and knees. You need a lesson.”

What lesson could he possibly learn? Steven yelped as the hand that was digging into his scalp thrust forward, and he landed in a heap next to the table where they had stacked all their food before having their little room party. Everything was black and blurry. The boy pushed himself into a wavering position just like his dad had ordered, fingers twitching as they gripped the plush carpet. The bands around his genitals ached, but he was as hard as a rock, possibly dripping as much as his body could produce, forced into arousal with the rubber.

Above him, he could hear the sound of plates being moved around. He didn’t look up. A melodic tingle of silverware sounded, metal clinking, followed by the unmistakable introduction of a sharp knife to meat. The sawing was wet and sinewy, a thousand strings being cut, filled with red juice. He heard the sound of tines hitting a ceramic plate, and then chewing, a low grumble, his father’s rising vocalizations, then a swallowing noise.

“Best steak that you can buy in the city,” the man said, as if he was talking to himself. “Tender and pink and medium, not too bad. Even when it’s a little cold, it’s still cooked better’n I could. Gotta love it. I never thought I’d be able to get it for myself, you know. Or for anyone else.”

Steven didn’t say anything. He listened to the meat being cut once more, the tiny impact of the fork into flesh. Suddenly, the man was next to him, kneeling on the carpet with a grunt. Steven could smell the Worcestershire sauce and the cracked pepper, juices, tender burns, as his head was yanked back by the hair and the strip of steak was dangled in front of his face, bumping against his nose. The obvious command would have been to eat it, but there were no words following it. If he acted out of turn, that would make him a bad boy. Was he overthinking it? Almost definitely, but there was always a chance. He merely stared at the shadow of meat in the dark with his father’s body pressed against him. Greg finally chuckled.

“Patient boy, good boy,” Greg said softly. “This is the lesson, Steven. We can indulge now in anything we want. But everything you got in the world, you got from your daddy. And I’ll give it all to you. Because daddy loves you. Do you love daddy?”

“Yes! Y-yes, I love you, daddy!”

“Alright. Good boy. Don’t ever forget, daddy’s gonna take care of you. Daddy always takes care of you. Daddy feeds you.”

Greg got on his knees, and the meat vanished from view. As he scooted around, with Steven’s eyes adjusting to the darkness, the boy could see the steak dangling from between Greg’s teeth like a dog toy. The man lowered himself down, mirroring Steven, crouching in an animal position, father and son face to face. Gently, Steven raised his mouth to take the steak from his dad’s mouth. The man did not let go. Steven chewed, bit by bit; the strip wasn’t exceptionally long, and their mouths met in a moment. 

The two began to chew together. Meat juice and strips of flesh were crushed on Steven’s tongue, warmed by the hot breath of the man in front of him. Greg kept the growls to a minimum, but Steven knew he was holding back, just enough for them to have this moment as an indulgence as well, as much as the hotel, or the steak, or the pool, or the suits. He ground the steak between his teeth as gently as he could, almost obediently, and the motions of his lips twisted in tandem to his father’s own. They were kissing, in a way, eating together in another, a disgusting and wholly intimate form of consumption. Steven felt his dad’s tongue first, still speckled with food, sliding into his mouth as if to taste the mystery of what the steak could be when coated in his boy’s saliva. And he returned the favor, a deep kiss covered in medium red meat. Their mouths became one mouth, the eaters and the eating. Chewed steak crossed over as they kissed, a deep and sloppy makeout, but not a single scrap was spilled.

A hand came up to hold Steven’s chin, and Greg let his tongue out all the way. Steven took the invitation and sucked on it, getting all the bits of food he could, before Greg pulled back and Steven closed his mouth and swallowed it all. His father did the same, letting his hand down once more. When he stood up again, he moved so that his cock brushed up against the child’s face, smearing it with wetness. He was oiled up and dripping with precum all at once. He stank of sweat and leather.

The boy’s fingers gripped the carpet. As his father reclaimed his position behind him, the head of his cock tapped at his bound balls. They were almost numb, but still red and full of life and pain, squeezed tight by the bands. Steven whimpered as he attempted to arch his back. A finger and a thumb came down to stroke Steven underneath, tugging at the tip of his foreskin, sliding it back over the forced erection and the reddened head. Greg merely chuckled as he left his son exposed.

Steven’s own sweat mixed with the fabric of the lingerie. He had tasted his dad’s sweat before, licked his armpits and anus and chest and belly, and he loved the fleshy salt of it all. There must have been a difference between the man’s and Steven’s, but he couldn’t tell, not right now. All he knew was that he was going to be sweating a lot more. Greg might have been saying something, but Steven couldn’t understand with the blood pounding in his ears. He knew how his father could get during doggy-style. The cockhead teased the edge of his sore little hole. Steven closed his eyes and tried to relax as his father gripped him by the waist with one hand, and he instantly tensed again, eyes bulging, when the grip suddenly tightened and the head was shoved in forcibly past the sphincter. The pain of being penetrated so suddenly turned Steven’s scream into a wordless yowl, a hoarse moan, air driven out of his body. His faculties returned a half-second later, and he let out a blubbering whimper as his father patted his cheeks, his cock burning inside the child’s hole.

“Inch by inch, row by row,” the man sang under his breath, chuckling as he shuffled into a better position.

Hair and belly fat nudged against Steven’s tailbone, and with a grunt, Greg swung their bodies until his gut was shelved on top of the child’s back. It wasn’t massive enough to lie flat, but it was out of the way now, pinched over the tight leather jock and squeezed just right. Steven sucked in warm air as he was pulled back, hand sliding over the carpet with each small thrust that pushed the cock deeper into his body. Even as the grip, both hands on both hips, tightened to the point of pain, nothing was more painful than being stretched like this, and nothing was more satisfying. Steven felt his father’s thickness dripping deep inside of him, up to the curve of his insides, right as the man hilted him. Steven knew that the thrusts would push up against him even deeper, and that he was going to feel it try to delve even more than it already was.

The silence around them was broken by a snort as the man began to firmly fuck his son. He pulled the boy down, then drew his hips back, then pushed forward once more, getting up a perfect rhythm of flesh on flesh. Steven could hardly gasp in time to the beat as every half-second he was hilted once more. He was being used, just like how he wanted it, just like how he wanted to show he loved the man that provided for him. Steven began to drool in between whines and grunts, spittle dangling and falling from his teeth. He closed his eyes and let his upper half sink to the carpet. He belonged to his daddy, and that was that, and Greg was more than happy to show him what that meant. The cock stretched all his muscles to the limit.

“Goddamn. Boy’s got such a good ass,” Greg snarled. “Does baby like daddy’s cock fucking his ass? Huh? You like it, bitch?”

Steven’s response was something like a ‘yes,’ but broken up with a swollen tongue and the force of having the daylights thrust out of him. The wet whimper must have been enough for the man as he doubled down on his efforts. Snarls and half-words floated through the air, almost echoing over the embarrassingly loud sounds of Greg’s hips smacking against Steven again and again. It wasn’t until they slowed just a bit that the child was able to open his eyes.

“Push out for me, Steven…”

A hand tapped his rear end. They had played with the notion before. Steven reached back and held his sore cheeks, with his father’s hands and body sliding away. Only the right remained on the small of the boy’s back. The thickness slid out with a wet, elastic sound, skin peeling against skin, until the head was right about to emerge. Greg pulled slowly as Steven grunted and pushed with what he could.

He couldn’t see his gaping rear, but Steven could feel it, and he had stretched himself in private before — but not like how daddy did it. Greg swore under his breath at the sight. The sore sphincter, just the muscles near the end, curled away, forced out to show how much he had been trained. A heavy slap came down on his hole; the throbbing cock tapped on the gape, perhaps in admiration, perhaps in simple lust. Steven shuddered, unable to hold himself for much longer as his rear end retreated once more. His breath was interrupted by the head sliding in and forcing its way past the entrance, between the silky walls, still too big for a boy his size but, at the same time, just big enough. 

“Again.”

Right as he was about to release himself and relinquish his grip on his ass, Greg pulled out, faster this time, and Steven whined as he was forced to gape once more. He could feel it dripping with precum, mixed with his sweat and the last remnants of the lube. They could have used more, but good boys took it raw. Steven kept his muscles loose as his father leaned forward and back, still keeping one hand on him, pulling and pushing all the way out. The girth rocked Steven every time he was penetrated, not even hilted this time, and his moans became rhythmic, tuned to the sticky sounds of his hole being absolutely wrecked. It would go back, it always did, but it would be days before, and that was only if tonight was the only night of play between them. 

Two hands came down now, and Greg grabbed him and forced his wrists away. There was nothing Steven could do but hold on once more as the man took hold of his hips. His first thrust was as deep as it had ever been, snaking up and forcing its way deep, deep into Steven’s body, right to the curve once more. It felt like it was going to come up and choke him, clogging his throat. 

It came out just as fast again, completely exposed, and he could feel his father remove one hand to hold his cock steady before impaling his son once again. Steven’s moan had turned into almost a scream at this point, and yet it still felt overshadowed by the mans grunts and huffs, subtle as they were. There was a timing to the thrusts, but Steven was completely gone. His eyes rolled back in his head at this new sensation, the hardest his hole could take for the moment. They had spoken about fists before, but Greg was far too big for his little boy. For the man, though, Steven’s arms were possible. In the moment, it was Steven who needed the training. The meaty slaps filled the air. First Greg would pound inside his son, then he would draw back with a sloppy noise as Steven pushed out, and then that tiny bruised hole would swallow him up once more. 

Finally, when Steven could no longer distinguish his tears from his drool and sweat, Greg pushed in and stopped. He was panting heavily. The boy could still smell him with the last sense he had left, the unmistakable scent of piggish sweat, the kind that only emerged when Greg was deep in the throes of sex. He had never seen or smelled his father this way even when they were running or moving or exercising; it was completely unique. Greg ground deep against his son, rocking them back and forth together, until he gave a hearty slap to Steven’s thigh. The boy squealed and sniffled, turning his face to the darkened carpet.

“Good boy, thought I completely wore you out,” the man whispered with a voice like torn velour. “You’re… Fuck, Steven, you’re a champ. Can you hear me, baby? Steven?”

“M _rrhe_ h… Daa…”

His thighs felt like they had just been subject to a thousand-mile marathon. At this point, he had no idea how long his dad had been fucking him. The only thing keeping Steven from passing out, besides his natural endurance, was the constant tension of the bands around his private parts. His tiny erection was trying so hard, and the sensations from getting repeatedly punch-fucked by Greg’s member were so much that there was no pain in his banded balls whatsoever. At any other time, when he had the capability to resist or twitch or react, he knew that the man would have loved to play with his privates, a tiny bit of torture compared to what they had watched online.

But when the man pulled out again, he pulled out slowly, still hard as a rock. One day Steven knew he could have that Universe stamina, something his father had kept over the years and would keep for some time, hopefully. It took almost no effort to push out his hole. Even when he relaxed he could feel the muscles want to give, so the throbbing pain would mean something. He still had control, but he could feel the stretch, freshly exercised. 

When his dad touched him again, it was notably gentler, and Steven’s little hiccough almost turned into a choke from the tactile whiplash. Still, he was used to this side of Greg from growing up, the kind that would stroke him to bed after nightmares, the kind that hugged him whenever he accomplished a childhood milestone. The same fingers returned to his testicles, and one at a time, Greg stretched the bands over and released his son from bondage. Skin and fat gently descended back into their rightful places, and the man tossed the bands in the vague direction of the bed.

“You are such a good boy, Steven, my good boy,” Greg murmured, “my beautiful, strong boy.”

Steven felt the five fingers clench around his cock, just strong enough to keep the grip without hurting. It was a feeling of care. He already knew what was going to happen, and he was ready, primed as all young bodies were. Most of them didn’t have a dad like Greg, though, and none of them had what the two had together. Once more, the man bent down until Steven could feel the hot breath on his hole. The tongue came out, and the boy felt his father’s wet muscle running over his ruined, sticky anus. One of the man’s arms was propping himself up while the other began to milk Steven, sliding the loose skin around the child’s erection.

This was the true moment of overstimulation. When he was getting fucked, Steven could tune out the direct pleasure, content to ride the high of being used until he was ready to be used in a different manner. Orgasms were more intense, too intense. He had masturbated before when he was alone, when he was about to get into the shower, late at night when he knew the Gems and Lion were away. Those quick and naughty moments were nothing compared with the feeling of a lover’s hand, a hand callused by time but softened by parenthood. 

And that was to say nothing of his hole. All of the penetration had left him primed and ready for getting the rim sucked, letting the tongue slide inside the fleshy walls as far as the man could push it, beard bristles tickling the pale, battered cheeks. Greg’s lips opened up as he ate out Steven to his heart’s content, tasting his own spit and copious precum, the perfect cleanliness of his son, his boy in every respect. Aches turned to tingles, then into different indescribable aches.

Every stroke meant that Steven’s sore ballsack was getting jostled by his father’s wrist whether or not the man meant it. But he did, he had to be doing it on purpose, just because he knew that Steven loved that little bit of sensation at the end. It was close to the end, closer than Steven had anticipated. His head swam with lightning bolts and his hips trembled, ready whether his mind was or not for the ultimate climax. He had never been fucked like this before and his body knew it. Greg’s tempo increased, his tongue and lips slurping furiously. The two of them were almost synchronized at times, and that was just another reason why these playtimes were better than anything Steven could have dreamed.

He couldn’t keep his eyes closed, no matter how much he wanted to. His vision crossed, arms vibrating in tiny spasms, tongue lolling out as the words tried to crawl over his tongue. The room turned hazy, and the pressure in his groin reached the tipping point.

“D- _a_ -AH, dad! Daddy!” he grunted. “Oh, ghh- _hh_! DADDY!”

The last cry, the child’s plea, came just as Greg lifted his other palm to the boy’s penis, a receptacle end for Steven’s means. The first time Steven had came in front of his father, Greg had noticed and noted the volume, the power, the genetic comparison. Now more than ever, Steven could feel his cock squirt, white-hot and borderline painful, pumped out through his father’s knuckles. The man had pulled his hand down as much as he could, though the depth of his four fingers was longer than Steven’s boyhood. The pumping, though, was all his own, all his body’s, and the poor boy gurgled as he shot into his father’s waiting hand. He knew it was going to fill it up, and he let it flow, grunting along with Greg, one stifled by carpet and the other by skin. 

Even after the last large shot — three? Four? He couldn’t count — Steven felt himself dribble. Perhaps in another situation he could have realized it was the biggest orgasm he had ever had in his life. Perhaps he was just so messed up from getting fucked that it had only felt that way. He had cum regardless, more than the average lad, a good amount for a healthy boy, that much he knew for a fact. The force left his hips feeling as though they were going to collapse, and he was a stinking pile of sore muscles, but it was all so, so worth it. The warmth pulsed through his body still, approaching an afterglow but still tethered to the climax.

Greg took a deep breath as he drew away from his son’s rear end, then smacked his lips. Steven felt both hands fall away, and he almost fell over himself. But daddy didn’t want that, or at least daddy didn’t ask for it, not yet. The man seemed to move slowly, but he moved methodically, and Steven heard the direction of the grunts change as Greg moved to a squatting position.

“That’s a good load, baby boy. I wanna use it. On your back, knees up — come on, kiddo.”

Steven fell over. The impact on his side was enough to get him onto his back, but he could barely focus. Blurry outlines of a man in a harness were enough to get him to do what had to be done, and even then, Greg had to push his thighs up so the boy could grasp them with such weak fingers. This was the kind of orgasm that he needed ro recover from, but daddy wanted it more. The man’s cockhead gently rubbed against Steven’s thighs as he was stretching, between a warning and a promise.

When Steven was in place, Greg moved his free thumb down to the hole, and Steven whimpered as he was gently stretched once again, the rim tugged like dough. The man moved his penis to the entrance, then took the carefully balanced hand with Steven’s load and turned it out over the boy’s raphe. It was still warm, still diluted, not as thick as the adult’s was or would be. Despite the fog, Steven knew what was going to happen, and it was brand-new. Going back for seconds was something they had done before with messy holes, but Steven had never been fucked with his own cum before. He took a shaky breath as the still-dripping hand rubbed over his belly and over his gem.

As Greg leaned forwards over his son, he shifted his hips, forcing himself once more into Steven missionary-style. The boy yelped harshly as his still-sensitive hole was forced open once again, and not even the assistance of dad drool or his own load could make that feel better after cumming. But daddy wasn’t done yet. The more he pushed, the more he brought his body forward, and he gripped Steven’s knee with one hand to bend him up. The child’s hips were raised off the ground, and Greg was using the force of his squat to drive himself in deep. The cock took a moment to adjust before, once again, it prodded menacingly deep into Steven’s hole.

“Fuck’n yeah,” the man grunted, and Steven let his arms flop back as his father leaned over him, shaking his head to adjust the cap. “Can you take it, Steven? Can you take daddy? It’s… You can always bail. Okay?”

If that same concern had always been there, Steven hadn’t noticed it before. Play was play, after all, and there was no need to be overly cautious when they both knew what they were getting into. But the edge was there, the love that had driven this whole thing, that had led them to talking, then hugging, then kissing, then touching. The boy swallowed. His daddy’s warmth stretched him in all the places he had never been stretched, touching him in ways he couldn’t have dreamed of. With or without cuffs, clothing, bands — this was what he wanted. It was an almost reptilian want, carnal desire without words. Greg was suspended in the motions, staring down at the boy as he got into the position Steven couldn’t remember the name of, where the adult was on his feet and leveraging himself against the child’s thighs.

Before the warmth could fade, while he still had the remnants of an orgasm running through him, Steven reached with his last vestige of strength for one of his father’s arms, and Greg allowed himself to be guided, led by the boy until the fingers brushed against the boy’s throat. Greg’s other hand spread out on the carpet as the man chuckled, finding his balance with small adjustments.

“Oh, daddy’s gonna give you a big load for that.”

He didn’t squeeze, but there was pressure yet, and Steven could feel the hand closing around him as Greg began to hump, slowly at first, bringing his leather-clad groin to the very edge of the child’s skin. Gravity did enough work to force the penetration. Steven let the pressure around his neck increase with every murmuring of ‘good boy’ that came out of the man’s mouth. It was possible that Greg wasn’t actually saying anything, and that Steven was imagining the words as they came, but they felt so real, so wonderful, that he couldn’t ignore them.

The fucking itself turned more and more animalistic even as Greg kept his motions precise. They had talked about safety more than once, especially when it came to kinky play like this. Steven’s body could handle just about anything the man was willing to give, and willing he was. His balance was as precise as it could be as he fucked Steven just like how they had always wanted, a rough hilt with the smell of cooking and masculine sweat filling the air. Even in the disheveled lingerie and with his hairless body manhandled by his father, Steven felt that same kind of male connection, something for which there was no word, a beauty in what he could take and do.

Getting from gentle humping to full-on rough smacks took almost no time at all. The blur of the room turned into an actual smear in the darkness as Steven’s throat was slowly but surely constricted. Studying up had been a necessity, especially with someone Steven’s age. Greg was careful not to lose himself completely as he squeezed Steven’s neck, teeth grit as he pounded. It took all the muscle in the world to fuck his son like this, Steven knew; it was a difficult exercise, one that required leg strength, that balance, the turgidity of an erection that would never quit. As he was being fucked, Steven could feel his loose, sore genitals flopping around, jostled by the man’s gut and by his own shaky flesh.

The grunts increased and the hand eventually fell from Steven’s body, turning into a fist as both hands hit the floor. Neither one of them, while they had the opportunity, had masturbated for the week leading up to this trip. The planning and timing and execution all had to be perfect, and Steven knew he was about to get what he wanted. The pressure from his neck began to dissipate as the energy flowed to the other side of his body, where his well-worn hole was being stretched once more, this time by sheer speed. Greg let loose a small growl before snorting, spitting down onto Steven’s face. The saliva hit him like a salt gun, warm liquid shrapnel that forced him to close his eyes. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you!” Greg snarled, giving in to the animal persona. “Steven, daddy’s gonna cum for you!”

Intensity was always an issue for someone who experienced orgasms like Greg or Steven. Recovering from something as hard as this took time, and Steven was fortunate that that was the case even now, when he could feel the floodgates begin to open in Greg’s body. The man was getting closer, as close as he could reach before erupting. It took him so long to get to orgasm sometimes without the aid of Steven’s mouth or ass, and however long had passed, Greg Universe could go for that much longer. The stories he had told had been corroborated by evidence, as Steven had eagerly learned.

The telltale signs were there, though, and Steven held on tightly with his little whimpers, knowing what was to come. Greg’s audible breathing was like that of a steam engine, whistling through his nose and mouth with all the force his lungs could muster. Muscles tightened up all around the man’s body, even as his thrusting became more and more fluid and concentrated. It was a singular purpose, the body’s desire to ejaculate inside another, fulfilling some biological contract, fruitless though it was. Giving in was all that Greg’s body could do. His dominance seeped out of every pore, teeth pressed tightly and white in the darkness of the room. Lastly was speed, the speed that Greg could have started with but which would have genuinely hurt Steven more than the boy could have ever taken. Slow and steady meant more ‘quick and ready’ for moments like this, where Steven knew it was only a matter of seconds before he was going to feel the brunt of his father’s orgasm.

There were no words, just noises, the vowelless charring of the vocal cords as Greg raised his head like a howling wolf. His mouth was open as the sound of their bodies was overtaken by his battle cries. Steven had to keep his eyes closed as he felt the man swell inside of him.

“HRRRRR, fuck! FUCK! Here it is, baby, I’m gonna breed that tight cunt—”

Those were the last words Steven heard, the last words Greg could get out, before the man bowed his head over the boy and groaned. It was prolonged, deep, and almost pained. Inside of his ass, Steven could feel the swelling and the warmth. More than warmth, it was heat, heat deep in his body where nobody else could possibly reach, and there was his father, buried up to the balls, shaky and as solid as concrete as he emptied himself. He could masturbate every day and still make more than Steven felt he could in a lifetime, and after a week, the results spoke for themselves. Load after load throbbed inside of him. In the most exaggerated sense, he felt a sense of purpose, the need to be here and be used by his father, every night, every moment. It was why there was a difference between ‘dad’ and ‘daddy.’

His thoughts and breath were interrupted by thrusting. Greg usually dumped everything in one load, but the actual orgasm and the resulting sensitivity could last for ages. Steven gasped with each long thrust as the aching, bulging cock began to ram him again, a slower rhythm accompanied by quieter grunts. The man was still as hard as ever, and he pulled out enough so that the ensuing push of his hips made Steven wince and whimper once more. The pain was more realized now that his own sexual pleasure had passed, but his dad knew that, he must have. Each pump brought out a little fluid, part of Steven’s own ejaculate and Greg’s fresh load, dribbling down the underside of the boy’s rear and his tailbone, down his back. 

With a final sustained silence, Greg let out his breath and pushed in deep. He sniffed as he regained his composure, although he still panted under his breath and still shook as he held himself in place. Inch by inch, the man lowered himself to his knees, and Steven felt his body moving with it. He was still hard enough to stay inside the boy, and he used that as he reached back around underneath his cheeks. He grunted just for a moment and shook, and Steven heard another wet sound. From behind his back, Greg pulled out the shiny plug that had been inside him the whole time.

“H-huhf, heh. I...was gonna make you keep it inside, and cum for me then,” he whispered. Then, he moved the plug to his other hand, and tossed it again to where he had thrown the bands that were wrapped around Steven’s balls. “Another night. ‘nother time.”

Where had his voice gone? Steven wanted to smile and respond with a little joke, something about how they were going to have to find a different hotel so nobody would recognize the smell, but he could only cough and nod his head. He really had been fucked past that point. The farthest they had gone always felt new, moving goalposts, moving down to bigger and better things. This must have been it, then, the most he had done. Steven felt exhausted, sore as anything, sticky and nasty and all the other feelings that came after sex. And it was satisfying. How could it not be? 

Greg pulled out gently, so gently that Steven barely noticed until the head was pulling at him just like it had before. Post-orgasm tension had made his muscles just tight enough, or at least they felt tighter, still loosened from the intense punching beforehand. When the glans finally started to tug at his sphincter, Steven bit the inner wall of his cheek, and then gasped as it slipped out with a wet pop. Greg’s foreskin didn’t cover as much as Steven’s, and when the man got hard it was evident to see where it pulled back, where the mushroom head wanted to be free and to scrape at the inner workings of the boy’s rectum. When he was soft, things were easier. He must have been getting there, millimeter by millimeter. The man sighed and started to move.

Sidling around to Steven’s torso, Greg pulled at the bralette, bringing it up and over the boy’s head, slipping it off one arm at a time. There, a return to nudity. He crouched above his son, and Steven stared at the upside-down man, and attempted to smile. Greg sighed, discarding the underwear and returning both hands to the child’s cheeks. He rubbed them softly, and moved to cradle Steven’s head in his hands.

“Hey, Steven, you gotta say something.”

“I…”

“Yeah? You okay?”

“I’m okay, dad.” He coughed, swallowed, and then let out a little laugh despite himself. “Heh-eh, serious, I’m...okay.”

“That was a lot. C’mere.”

Steven remembered being picked up like this before. His father had to drag him out of the van on those sleepy mornings, pulling him to the bathroom and then back to get dressed. Times had changed, but the motions stayed the same. Greg grunted as he pushed Steven into a sitting position, then raised him by the armpits, both of them getting upright before the boy was lifted into the air. The dizziness made Steven groan again softly. One strong arm wrapped around his torso, and the other tucked underneath him, bending his thighs. Steven held a gasp behind his teeth as he felt himself leak involuntarily, a tiny squirt sounding underneath as he felt the mixed load dribble.

“It’s okay, Steven, you took a lot. Fill’er right up. Let’s get clean, okay?”

“Mmhm.”

Back on the bed, Steven let himself be put to rest, knees dangling off as his father set him down. The man straightened, and Steven did as well, pushing himself into the mattress as he watched his father start to strip down. Even with his arms aching, the boy had to keep himself upright, so he could keep on recovering. The glow was fading, and reality came back, one shadow at a time. Greg took off the leather cap first and set it gently by the nightstand, then tugged at the leather straps on his chest. This was the dad Steven knew growing up, the dad that fumbled, the dad that had a hard time with strange clothing. He smirked as Greg finally got the harness over and tossed it to the bed next to Steven. 

The jock was last, and thank goodness for loose straps. His cock was still hard enough to be an impediment to undressing, springing back up as the man finally dragged it down off his waist. Even in the dim light Steven could see the marks that the leatherwear had made, the indentations in the skin, the flattened hair. Greg took a deep breath and stretched upright, wincing as some part of his back cracked. It was just part of getting older and more handsomer. He opened his eyes and made contact with Steven. The boy let his smile break first, broadening into a grin as he kicked his feet on the mattress. Greg smirked, shaking out his hair as he stepped over.

When he suddenly grabbed the boy’s ankles, Steven let out a louder laugh, genuinely surprised, trying to ignore the ragged edge from his latent exhaustion. He fell onto his back obediently as his dad lifted his legs, growling deeply like this was just another playtime. Steven let his chubby thighs descend, pulled by their own weight as Greg let go. The man sighed and rubbed Steven’s belly with one hand, thumb just barely tapping the gem, as his other gently rubbed up against the leaky hole. It was a naughty move, playing on his sensitivities, and Steven twisted as he hooked a finger into his mouth.

A second finger joined it, a thicker one, one that Greg had dressed with cum before offering it. Steven closed his eyes and suckled as it slipped into his mouth. It was impossible to tell where his semen ended and his father’s started, a mix of well-churned juices that tasted just as strong as it did from the source. He kept his lips tight as his dad drew the finger out, until it popped clean and Steven swallowed, salt and sperm tingling on his tongue.

Greg lowered himself, and Steven watched curiously before he felt the tongue touch him once more. Just like before, his hole ached with the stimulation, but this time it was more final, more playful, as the man cleaned up his leaky boy. Steven whimpered and held his belly with both hands. The tongue lapped around the space between his cheeks, gently sucking at all the spilled cum, tiny kisses rolling around the excess. It would all come out eventually, but Steven tried to keep it in for the moment. 

There was a moment of silence as Greg rose up again, and Steven opened his eyes as he was pulled back into a sitting position. For a split second, he saw the man’s face coming closer, and he could see the tinges of white around his beard before the mouth opened and locked onto his own. Steven closed his eyes and held onto his father’s arms as they kissed, and then he shuddered with erotic gratitude as he tasted the saved semen.

Swapping loads and swapping steak; it was the same kind of intimacy, one charged by the moment leading up the orgasm and one defined by the aftermath. Steven and Greg let out two exhausted, harmonic moans as their lips rolled around each other, saliva and cum frothing between their cheeks. The bitter bounty was all for Steven, though, he knew that, he knew that his dad wanted to share it with him. The larger tongue insisted, sliding all that it could in and around Steven’s mouth, pressing it as the boy swallowed greedily. He loved it all, loved this moment. The tiny hands squeezed with all his strength, sucking on the man’s tongue to get all the goodness out before they separated.

The two Universes stared at each other. Steven raised his eyebrows and gave an exaggerated gulp, then pretended to dab a napkin at his lips. Greg stifled a sudden deep laugh before letting his head fall, and Steven let it out as well. Tiny giggles mixed with deep-chested chuckles, a moment between father and son, the same laughter that they had watching movies together, that they shared at terrible puns. Greg put his hands under Steven’s arms and lifted him once more, wrapped them around and under his son.

“You’re one nasty lil’ kid. Who taught you all that?”

“I don’t knoooow, maybe the internet? Maaaaybe a nice man with long hair and a zillion dollars?”

“Well, I’m gonna have to give that man a talking to! For shame, turning my Steven into a sex pest. For shame, I say!”

Steven closed his eyes, hugging tightly as he was carried into the bathroom. Out of all the penthouse fixtures, the one he appreciated the most right now was the adjustable lighting, a slider that Greg adjusted until it was high enough to see without hurting their eyes. A car wash sprinkler couldn’t compare to the beauty and pressure of the shower. Steven had been here alone before to prepare, just like how he was supposed to. There would be plenty of cleanup later, but for now, they could let their sweaty selves get rinsed off before a well-deserved rest. 

From the stories he had been told, Steven was confident that Greg could operate things one-handed, experience from his years as a single parent. The man opened the sliding glass door and leaned forward. Steven heard squeaking knobs before the rush of the water, tiny cold droplets jumping out to kiss his lower back.

“Give that a sec to warm up…” Greg muttered. “You know, I wonder if it takes longer to get hot water since we’re on top, or if they have some kind of, I don’t know, a pump closer for all the rich folks who’d complain about it.”

“Does the water get warmer faster the closer you are?” Steven paused. “Dad, can we rent a room closer to the pumps to check?”

“Buddy, let’s save our money for the good stuff. Like getting a nicer shower for you at home. How about a bathroom remodel? Does that sound good?”

“Could we add a room?”

“Add a room?” Greg repeated. “Like, uh, a storage room?”

“Like another bedroom.”

Greg paused, then brought his head closer to Steven’s as he hugged, close enough so that the boy couldn’t turn to look at him unless he pushed back. But he didn’t want to. Steven felt the sigh underneath as Greg squeezed him, and he squeezed right back, naked hugs keeping them together as close as they could be without being inside each other. Then, Steven thought, he did have his father’s genetics. He was inside the boy the whole time. And metaphorically, Steven knew he was in his dad’s heart, and that was close enough.

“Tell me if the water’s too hot,” the man murmured.

Steven nodded. Greg stepped forward, and Steven held onto his dad, legs and arms wrapped around the man in a mess of stickiness. The powerful spray climbed up his spine, over his shoulder blades, and around his neck, rivulets of heat sliding over his collarbone and in between their chests, down the belly and the gem, around the penis sunk into his baby fat, squished against the hairy torso. Greg began to hum, rocking Steven as they adjusted to the temperature. The water was hotter than he was used to, but it felt just right, the same temperature as their bodies. Steven closed his eyes and began to hum along.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are moderated. This is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. Please do not request future stories/topics.


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